Who

Sienna, Nathanael, K'ane, Prineline, Sadaiya, Renalde, Donatien, Nevik, Kultir

What

After the eggs are hatched those from both Igen and Southern gather to… celebrate? Well, at least Sienna has fun.

When

The seventh day of the twelfth month of the first turn of the 12th pass.

Where

Southern Living Caverns

OOC Date

 

sienna_default.jpg nathanael_default.jpg k-ane_default.jpg prineline_default.jpg sadaiya_default.jpg renalde_default.jpg donatien_default.jpg nevik_default.jpg kultir_default.jpg

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Living Caverns

Grand and spacious, the cavern curves high aloft in naturally-vaulted ceiling that soothes any sense of claustrophoba. Rich woods line the cavern floor, varnished and stained a rich mahogany, while round tables scatter about candlelit and intimate. The largest table lies southerly next the sideboard, long trestles that seem oriented to providing for the weyr's youngest. The rich blue of Azov can be seen from a distance in good weather, when the heavy stone doors covering the entrance are allowed to stand open.


Timor: moon4.jpg
Belior: moon3.jpg


The Living Caverns are set with all the trappings of a feast, tables that normally take up the center space jostling up the innards of the inner caverns — the better to make a space for a Harper quartet and dance space. All manners of roasted meat are available next to a bounty of seafood from the northern coasts and the inland cretins of Azov, while Ardstelle has put on a bounty of tiny cakes and pastries that would look daunting if they didn't look so delicious.

Because this is way easier then actually walking, Nathanael is just going to take the arm of the woman and lead her way quickly, to here. The whole time he'll even chatter happily and point out the different parts of Southern, especially those places where dead bodies where found. (Sorry, he totally thinks they're cool.) "'n this's 'e Livin' Cavern. Ma'am Ardstelle's 'e best cook, thouh lately she ain't been doin' as much 'cuz she's been doin' 'e headman's job while he's settin' up 'e new hold. So mayhap there ain't gonna be much butter 'n 'e food t'day."

Sienna is a rapt listener, nodding and asking good questions as she's escorted to the caverns. "I heard about that new hold…" she says. "It's cold, isn't it?" The former Baker laughs. "No butter? Can food be good without butter?" Inside the caverns she pauses to look around, smiling. "This is lovely."

"I don't think so, m'self," K'ane replies to Sienna's question about butter, fetching up on her other side. "How're things, Sie?" He's got a half-grin and a glass of something pale and amber over ice. "Your weyrlings any better'n mine?" It seems to be a rhetorical question, honestly.

Nathanael hasn't at all taken his arm from Sienna's yet. Until the woman decides she wants to be separated, the seacrafter isn't about to make it happen. "I ain't too opposed, but ye know… when ye're puttin' butter 'n 'e puddin' 'n 'e jello….'" He shrugs, and smiles up at K'ane. "A'lo 'gain sir."

Sienna reaches out her free hand towards K'ane's, (her other arm is still linked with Nathanael's) trying to take his hand or his arm to squeeze. Touchy feely lady that she is. "Good. Miss you though. Congratulations." She smiles up at him and chuckles. "Mine are a very good group. Very."

Prineline does enjoy Southern's caverns, though Renalde will never hear her say it. However, as the Headman has decided to mingle elsewhere, Prin can let her guard down and thoroughly enjoy herself. With gold-yellow dress sparkling faintly in the glow light, the Headwoman stays generally close to the small knot she started in, though she does wander away after a brief interlude to secure herself a glass of wine and a few of those perfect looking pastries practically flaking away in the breeze of passing feasters.

K'ane will certainly crook his arm for Sienna, happy enough to co-escort her with Fish Trap Boy. "Kid," he amicably states in welcome to Nate, over the curly-haired head of the Igen assistant weyrlingmaster. "Y'got good taste," with a wink down at Sienna. "Mine are unruly. Somethin' about their weyrlingmaster gettin' murdered, I guess." His voice shades a mite bit sarcastic.

Sadaiya sparkles. She's witty. She does her whole networking thing, going from person to person with her little heels clicking a staccato rhythm on the floor. Suddenly, she stops, and, as if in a trance, glides towards the dessert table. "Oh man do you suppose they'll have one of those little chocolate fountains? Those are insaaaaane."

Of course Nathanael has taste. He's only hit on like, every woman in the weyr by now. Now Sienna has two escorts. One of which is now standing on his tip-toes looking around the cavern.

Sienna winces at K'ane. "I heard about that," she murmurs. Escorted by two gentlemen, the greenrider is grinning. "Let's find a seat and get some food. K'ane, care to join us?" Since he's linked in the trio now.

Prineline is half-way through scarfing her fourth petite pastry in two minutes when Sadaiya's comment causes her to start and look over. "Did you say chocolate fountain?" She says, slowly, meaningfully, as bits of pastry crust fall from the corners of her lips where they have settled in unflattering, if comical little lumps. Eventually she brushes them away, but a few bits still cling to her chin as she sips at the soft rose currently cradled in one hand. "I want a chocolate fountain. Why don't we have a chocolate fountain?"

Oh poor Prineline, if only she knew how Renalde's feelers stretch though is weyr. He may have excused himself from the egg laying, but he isn't about to miss the party. Not so long as he is here, though soon enough he will have to leave for the Fields again. Though the crowd he brushes, before somehow ending up next to Prineline again. "I will endeavor to find you a chocolate fountain, though you might wish to be wary of it my dear. I would hate for it to…" and he glances at her, "ruin your figure. Care to dance?" A slightly arched eyebrow states that Renalde clearly expects her to say no, as one elegant arm is offered out to the Igen headwoman. Perhaps he is being nice.. nice?

"Seems like it's a bad time for weyrlingmasters," K'ane replies to Sienna, still reminded of the old Igen weyrlingmaster's demise. "Food sounds good. Kid, do you see any of those spiderclaw things?" He peers around Sienna to ask Nate, his own eyes roving over the food. Then to Sienna, sotto-voiced and entirely too loud: "A half-mark that Renalde an' Prim get naked right there in th' middle of th' floor and start having angry sex."

"Oh! I can be findin' em!" Sienna's arm is swiftly dropped and Nathanael actually takes two steps before pausing, turning on one foot, and looking back at the greenrider. "Ye wantin' anything ma'am?" Because, polite.

"How great would that be?" Sadaiya enthuses, idly taking a small thing-on-a-cracker and placing it on a plate. Renalde's approach has both of her eyebrows shooting up so hard they almost fly off of her forehead and flitter away. "For real?" she whispers, mostly to herself, boggling intelligently.

He may be a little slow on his feet but Donatien arrives in style, looking as casual as he can, even if the man only makes it to the first unoccupied chair and folds into it, if a little quickly. He's content to watch the crowds bustling about, though his expression doesn't change when he espies through the crowd Renalde offering his hand to Prineline. Actually, after a moment, Dien starts to grin.

Sienna hisses and tries to hit K'ane's arm with her hand, but it's awkward the way their arms are linked. Still, she tries. "Hush! They're…" She pauses and then whispers, "I'll take that bet." Since there's no WAY that's going to happen. When her other arm is dropped she naturally rests that hand on K'ane's arm too, looking around. She grins at Nathanael. "I'd love a seat and some food, and maybe some wine."

"Got 'er ma'am!" Did he ever actually catch the greenrider's name? Maybe. At some point. Either way Nathanael is OFF towards those tables, disappearing into the crowd. K'ane will totally find her a seat right? Since he's you know, still got her arm.

Prineline can hear K'ane, and the man gets a very sharp look before Prineline looks at Renalde with a snort. "My dear Headman, as flattered as I am by your invitation I…" too much wine… she realizes too late she doesn't have an excuse lined up, "…I would?" It comes out more of a question and as she takes his arm she looks frankly dumbfounded. As for the cracks at her weight, she allows her nails to dig in a bit at the arm escorting her outwards and finds herself falling into step with the Headman with noticeable discomfort. However, she's light on her feet and though her company is lacking, she makes the most of this time together. "So tell me, how's your little pet project?" Whirl, spin, step. "In the land of no discernible resources or use?" The 'most' of their time together involves insults, of course.

"Great." K'ane grins over at the headman cluster and then sweeps Sienna through the growing throng of dancers with the stately composure of a Holder. "White or red?" he asks the Igenite as he leads off towards a table unclaimed, rushing the last few steps to get there before some sleezy-grinning Vintner. "God, I wish they'd just get th' I love you's over with already." Too loud again, K'ane.

The icy smile on Renalde's lips doesn't fade one ounce. Even when Prineline's nails bite into his arm. It's only a flesh wound after all. He doesn't miss a beat as he heads the Igen Headwoman out onto the floor. "Invigorating my dear Headwoman. You really must come visit. Perhaps I can finally teach you the proper way to organize stores. Tell me, have you found a way to sell sand yet so you might support that hovel you call home?" Smooth come his words as he follows the steps of the dance.

Nevik slides…no, 'slinks' into the living cavern with as much subtly as a herd beast in a healer hall. The rusty-haired youth does his best impersonation of a wall flower and is content to just watch things unfold without much drama. Then suddenly, a crash can be heard somewhere back in the kitchens just as he was about to take a step towards the sideboard for some food. The boy freezes in his tracks. Caught mid-step he pats himself down to see if he might have dropped something, stumbled over something, accidentally, somehow, thought too hard about something to cause the crash. Nope. This time, as far as he can tell, he's innocent and whatever was the source of the small, metalic crash of pans in the anti-chamber of the kitches was not his fault. Does he trumpet in boast? Does he shake his fist at the heavens and dare them to strike him down? Nope. He's just now even more nervous as dozens of eyes shift from the sound of the crash to him and back. Even when he's guiltless - he's never innocent.

Sadaiya is, for the time being, nibbling on the various snackies set out and staring SUPER HARD at the pair of Headpeople, entranced, chewing very idly. Something in her expression, maybe the tightness around her eyes and cheeks, suggests that she is straining as hard as she can to listen.

Donatien is actually just getting into the party when a flushed apprentice comes in. What's that boy? Timmy fell into the dye vat again? The message the boy gives Donatien is rushed and hushed, but it has the Weaver pulling himself to his feet with a slight strain behind an otherwise friendly smile, and both Journeyman and apprentice make their way out the door.

There will be many more flesh wounds before this dance is through. And No, K'ane, that is Not a reference to anything sexy. A few more digs with the nails and Prineline's thin, barely plastered on smile starts to take on the appearance of rigamortus. However, as the dance calls for a graceful sweep into her partner, Prineline takes the opportunity to mutter something beneath her breath towards her Southern counterpart, though her eyes move past him and towards the ogling crowd with annoyance.
You overhear Prineline mutter, "… … … … … … I won't … … … … … … in … … … … … … you're calling … Stores? What … … don't … … … plotting … … … … … … smarter … … … … only a matter of time. You … make … … And … for … I've … Southern … to be … … dusty … … care. If … … busy trying … get laid in the … perhaps … … … … replacing you … … Weyr … … deserves some … … … … to spare one … … … … certainly more … than you." to Renalde.

Nathanael comes back quickly enough, this time with this arms full of FOOD. Probably… too much food, but he's a teenage boy and there's no such thing as having eyes bigger than his stomach. Nothing is bigger. There's cheeses, crackers, those lovely little cakes of Ardstelle's, fruits, and just about a little bit of everything. Except wine. He forgot that. The plates are delivered onto K'ane and Sienna's table with a smile and then he's GONE again. For wine.

Sienna is swept through the crowd and takes a seat. "White please," she says, rolling her eyes and trying to thump K'ane's arm again once she's settled. Perking up when Nathanael returns, the greenrider grins. "Thank you!" And…he's off. "Sit, K'ane, he's getting the wine"

Nevik does his best impression of a 'no really I'm not seeing you look at me' walk as he strides towards the side-table for a plate full of snacks. Like everyone else, he doesn't want to gorge on just one thing and would rather sample a bit of this and that. With a near mound of various tasty treats piled onto his plate he starts to wander over to find a place to sit and enjoy a bit of a break while he mulls over the newly clutched eggs. Paused, he can't seem to find an obviously empty place for him to squat and so he decides to try the more dangerous route of weaving in and out of people for what he thinks is a corner of a table in the distance. Yeah - that should be safe enough.

Now Sadaiya's leaning forward, wide eyed, not even trying to be subtle about her eavesdropping as she pops some sort of pastry bite into her mouth. "Daaaaaaang," she breathes, mostly to herself and with a slightly food-muffled voice (booze and drama are far more important than table manners right now).

If anything, that smile on Renalde's face actually grows a titch larger at Prineline's words. It doesn't spread to his ice blue eyes though, they remain utterly still. "Oh my dear, I would dearly love to see you try." He twirls her again, then pulls her in against his chest where he can lower that clean shaven chin of his to mutter into her ear.
You overhear Renalde mutter, "… … … … you. Do … your … to … own weyr. … … … … spare such … … … … … … way … care … … … that it … … … a waste of both … … time. … … … … … … … … … … … little … … … … … … … … … … … … we … some … … shall … have … … up … … with … delegation?" to Prineline.

"Erf. He is." K'ane eyes off after Nate for a long moment, then smirks indulgently at Sienna, seating himself across from the greenrider. At the thump, "What! What'd I do t'deserve that one?" Other than EVERYTHING, that is. He grins across, silly.

Prineline slaps Renalde. Yeah. She does. In front of everyone. Mid-dance step, the Igen Headwoman simply steps back and SMACK! right across the man's face. There's a silence, and a stumble, as a few of the nearby dancers nearly fall over trying to avoid the scene. Prineline stretches out her slapping hand with a wince before spinning around and stalking off the floor, past Sadaiya, and out into the bowl and one would hope an awaiting dragon, secreted flask in hand. Mic dropped, Headwoman out.

Kultir is late to the party yet again, this seems to be a pattern with him since he's been out combing the jungles and beaches for comestibles for the kitchens only to return to find a party in full swing only this time it's due to a gold's clutching. Ah well, at least he's not too jungle-grimed and sand-sprinkled. Amber eyes scan the gathered folks as he edges around toward the kitchen to drop off his haul before moving to find food. Those eyes widen at the number of Igen knots he sees and … hmm, seems a lot of people are getting slapped and thumped. Maybe this isn't the best place for him after all.

Nathanael was totally going towards Nevik, three wine glasses in his hand. Upon seeing the other apprentice though, Nathanael gives a rather I'm-sorry look and actually steers clear. Wine is for special people yo. He makes a beeline towards Sienna and K'ane, and offers up the bounties. "Ma'am. Sir… Did Renalde jus' be gettin' slapped?"

"WOO!" Both of Sadaiya's arms fly up in a victory pose. The stares of other people, though, have her lowering them with a sheepish grin, and she clears her throat, pulling into herself like a turtle.

Sienna smirks at the bronzerider. "You know very well." But she stops when there's slapping happening, looking startled and pushing up a bit out of her seat. "Oh no!" Taking her glass from Nathanael, the greenrider settles again. "Thank you. And yes, he was…poor man." Sipping her wine, eyes cast longingly to the Harpers playing, feet itching to get out there and dance. Maybe she should ask Renalde to dance…

Nevik has completed his circut of the tables with every attempt to find a seat thwarted. Some think that his carried plate of food was somehow there to restock their own so that by the time he's made it around again to the side-table his own platter is devoid of food. Spying Nathanael on his path he accepts the appologetic look and smiles flatly back with a 'it's ok' expression of acceptance. Ugh. With a sigh of exasperation he reaches out for a meat roll when the tumble of dancers jostle to avoid hitting each other as Prineline smacks Renalde. Spinning he finds himself nearly shoulder to shoulder with Sadaiya as he asks, "what'd I miss?" Clearly he wouldn't be trying to ask the woman next to him but rather anyone who wished to respond, but his eyes glance to her reflexively. Why would she be standing up and not seated in a position of honor and respect? Odd. With an eyebrow quirked up as if to punctuate the question he turns his head to follow Prin as she stalks out.

Someone needs to check the water up at the Ice Fields. For instead of anger, that hand across his cheek leads to Renalde laughing. "Do be careful my dear. The floors were recently scrubbed." With that last parting shot Renalde is going to leave the dance floor, lifting a hand to rub at the cheek which is swiftly turning red from the woman's assault. A familiar white-blond head is spied near the food, "Ardstelle, a moment?" Up to the Southern cook he strides, taking her arm in his to go talk.

Sadaiya's quick to lean towards Nevik, not even looking at the source of the voice. "Well, at the clutching, Prineline made some crack loudly so he'd hear. He made some cracks back about Igen which, like, whatever, he's just being mad. They quibbled and we came in here and he asked her to dance and I was like whaaaat." She gestures expansively, mimicking surprise. "Then they quibbled some more but I couldn't hear it which sucked. He said something and then, like, she totally gave him a high five to the face. It was classic." Harper training, ladies and gents.

K'ane would normally invite Sienna out to dance, even risking the wrath of W'rin to do so. ALAS, he straightens up and looks unerringly outwards. "Aw, shell it. Sorry Sie, I'll catch ya th' next time I'm up in Igen, but…" There's a green weyrling crying, or something. He stands and makes for the door, giving a distracted Look backwards: "Take care of her, fishtrap boy!" There's a THREAT there.

"Yessir!" Nathanael is just going to take his newest charge SERIOUSLY. The wine is set down and eye eyes the back of Renalde speculativly. "Don't ye be worrin' ma'am. Ain't nothin' gonna phase 'e Heaman. Oy…." A THOuGHT occurs to the Sea Crafter when he catches where the woman's eyes wander. "D'ye be wantin' t' dance?" Hand outstretched the teen wiggles his fingers at the greenrider.

Sienna takes another sip of her wine, looking pensive…until Nathanael makes /that/ offer. "Yes." It's a swift answer - maybe too swift - and the curvy greenrider blushes a bit. Reaching out, she takes the teen's hand and squeezes it, beaming at him. "I /love/ to dance, lead on!"

'Ok, so I'm talking to a senior Weyr Woman - that's new' The rusty-haired, healer's apprentice mutters to his left as though there were someone there to hear him. Turning back to his right and to the woman standing there he tries to do the diplomatic thing and ask her if she's enjoying herself though it would seem to be self-evident. "I'm glad that you're able to enjoy yourself," he smiles. |She can't be all that different than other people I've met. Right?| The thought crawls through his head and can be read on his face as he watches her watching the crowd. "Will you be with us for a while?" he asks politely in a ham-fisted attempt to open a dialog with her while all of the drama on the dance floor starts to ease back to where it would normally be after a clutch.

Wait. She said YES? A broad grin speads across the teen's face when the greenrider accepts the invitation to dance. He usually gets shot down. Maybe he needs to just ask Igenites more often to dance. Taking Sienna's hand he leads the way out to the dance for. Not the most… graceful of dancers is he. Being fifteen and all.

Kultir makes his way to the drinks table and manages to acquire a mug of somewhat tepid ale which is not his favorite but as the wine selection seems to be a bit thin right now, it'll do. Downing the liquid to quench his thirst, he considers remaining a wallflower so that he can snack on a few of the tidbits but chooses to throw himself into the sea of humanity covering the cavern floor instead. Setting the mug into a dirty dish bin, he threads his way deftly through the crowd and skirts the area cordoned off for dancing and grimaces slightly. Spying a familiar figure among the throng, his steps migrate in that direction only to find himself close to Nevik and some rather high ranking Igenites. Across the way there, his young friend Nathanael is leading a … yes, a greenrider off to dance? Hmm, who'da thunk? Lucky kid. Turning to nod a greeting to the gathering, he offers a respectful bow to the woman sporting the goldrider's knot, and Senior Weyrwoman to boot.

Maybe he needs to just as /Sienna/ more often to dance. The greenrider is beaming, letting him lead even though he's a bit awkward. She, on the other hand, is quite good. Her body moves to the dance, flowing with the rhythms in perfect time, adding swishes and sways that make her wish she was in a gown and not her riding leathers. Still, there's no denying the rapt look of joy on her face. To dance…it frees the soul.

Kultir's bow is replied to with a brilliant smile from the Igen Weyrwoman. "Yup, that's me. Oh, it's lovely here, and such a strong clutch, too, especially for a brown father." The drama having died down, Sadaiya's free to turn on her heel to face the pair. "I'm hoping to wait out my dear Headwoman's upsettedness and then check on her. She likely just needs time." Her hand flaps sort of vaguely towards nothing. "So how do you find Southern? Are you enjoying your Healing and your… well, living here?" Both are addressed, and she's gained at least a modicum of self control after her inappropriately joyous outburst.

"Ye're real good ma'am!" Nathanael is very very careful as he attempts to lead the dance. (Really, she's totally in charge.) Kultir gets a bit of a sideways grin when he catches the look. He is totally aware of how lucky he is.

Nevik smiles to the gold rider and answers with as much respect strewn through his tone as to be polite but not false of face. "It's a bit different from Fort Weyr but," he pauses when spying Kultir and offers a nod and a 'hey how ya doing' wave to the man before turning his attention back to Sadaiya, "…it's growing on me. The discovery in the caves up in the ice fields was great…if I didn't nearly fall through the ice and kill myself in the process." The sarcasm that rolls out of his mouth would seem to suggest that he can only laugh at his bad luck at this point but there's still a bit of warning to his tone. So far things are going well but he's come to understand that this too is just a passing trend. Soon something will break, he will trip over air or, stars forbid, someone need medical treatment. "Thankfully, "he glances out towards those on the dance floor and then back to the woman with a faint shudder of suppressed fear, "…everyone is…mostly…patient."

Sienna grins, opening her eyes to /beam/ at him. "Thank you!" she says a touch breathlessly. "Spin me." It's a request that hopefully isn't denied, because she's already lifting his hand and spinning beneath it with a delighted (if soft) laugh.

Nathanael totally giggles when Sienna makes that request. To help her out on the spin he stands up on tiptoes and lifts that arm as high as possible so she doesn't have to duck down so far. "'m glad I been growin', 'cuz jus' six months ago I dun think ye would've been able t' be doin' that!"

Sienna laughs, stepping in again to continue the dance. "I would have found a way," she grins down at the shorter teen. "You should dance with Sadaiya too." She's shorter than he is!

Nathanael shakes his head, blond hair fluttering across his blue eyes. "K'ane said I was t' be takin' care've ye ma'am. Ain't gonna be abandonin' ye!" The dance is slowly coming to an and and Nathanael actually looks regretful. "Ye want me t' be takin' ye back t' 'e seat?"

Sienna chuckles, glancing towards the exit and then back to her 'date' for the feast. "One more dance?" she asks hopefully.

Kultir catches Nevik's nod and wave as well as the younger man's comment about falling through the ice. "Think the rope did more damage than the fall did to you since it made you slam into the side of the hole." His tone is teasing of the young Healer before he turns his attention to the goldrider. "Glad that you're enjoying it here, ma'am. Have you seen anything besides just the Weyr while you've been here?" Of course a junglerunner would go outside of the Weyr for sights that should be seen even though the Weyr itself is pretty enough for those who like to play it safe.

"Always!" Nathanael, more than willing to dance anytime, even without music, pulls Sienna back onto the next dance as the harpers strike up a lively tune. It doesn't leave much room for talking, but the seacrafter will manage it anyway, chatting in his fast and semi incomprehensible way thoughout it. Don't mind them, they're just dancing.

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